


A lonely company

by mew_tsubaki



Series: mew's Haikyuu!! music school AU [1]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-02
Updated: 2016-06-02
Packaged: 2018-07-11 20:46:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,535
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7069333
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mew_tsubaki/pseuds/mew_tsubaki
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Pianist Akaashi is only looking for a respite. He gets something else, something more, instead.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A lonely company

**Author's Note:**

> The Haikyuu! characters belong to Furudate Haruichi-sensei, not to me. Random idea for the prompt ["begin again"](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Zr5mtKSbd7M) (song by Purity Ring—nice!) for Haikyuu Rare Pair Weekend on tumblr. Title from the lyrics. Read, review, and enjoy!

Something possesses Akaashi to enter the room when everyone else is supposed to be home.

He shrugged Bokuto off earlier and is glad for the relative silence of the piano floor of the music school after a day of Bokuto playing competing trumpets with Kuroo all day long. Now all he wants is to practice in solitude and maybe work on his composition because, with two awards already in the bag, his teachers don't want to hear him do anything except perfect the work of the old masters. And all he's ever done is listen to them.

Except for now. Now he's listening to _him_.

He'd entered the room when it was quiet, but three seconds after doing so, the piano had started up, correcting Akaashi that, no, someone else had already taken up this room. He almost drops his folder of sheet music but catches it.

The piano stops. A round head wobbles around the instrument and pinks. "Oh! I didn't realize someone had come in!"

Akaashi dumbly, slowly shakes his head. "No…no, my apologies. I didn't realize someone else was here."

The other person—another teen boy maybe Akaashi's age, maybe older, maybe younger (his face looks younger)—dismisses his apology with a wave of his hand. He laughs. "Well, I was just leaving anyway."

"No, I can find another room. This is the piano level anyway." He bows his head respectfully. "Sorry to have disturbed you."

"Ah, but—"

Akaashi turns, and he misses the letdown expression on the other boy's face at possibly having some company.

* * *

Bokuto can be tiresome, especially after a long, grueling day of orchestra. "But, Akaashi, I thought we were going to work on the intro!" the older boy complains to his friend, half hanging off him as the bell tolls, ending school for the day.

"No, Bokuto-san, you need to practice with the metronome," Akaashi informs him. "Your pacing is erratic. You need to learn to slow down and follows others' leads."

"Exactly! So you agree with me," Bokuto chirps with a smile as they head to the shoe lockers.

"No. Metronome first."

Bokuto tears up and Kuroo and Konoha snicker at him the background. But Akaashi does his best not to cave. Bokuto needs discipline if he's ever to be as good a trumpeter as everyone believes is possible of him.

Besides, this is Akaashi's down time between competitions. He deserves some time off, doesn't he?

He goes up to the second floor, the piano floor—so named for being the only floor in the school with pianos in the practice rooms—and he takes his time approaching his favorite room, the one second from the end of the hall. The hallway is quiet again, and he is slow to near the room…

…then a tune picks up and fills the corridor.

It's pleasant and makes his ears twitch in anticipation. He likes it, a lot, and he wouldn't mind hearing more of it. But the sound is soft, far too soft, as if the player doesn't have confidence in their sound just yet.

Akaashi's mind's eye flashes to the mysterious pianist from two days ago, and curiosity makes him peek into the room. His hunch is confirmed.

The pianist from before slows his playing until the sound dribbles into silence. He sighs, and then he senses Akaashi at the door. He beams at him. "You can come in and join me, you know."

Akaashi stops peeking and stands fully in the doorway. "No, thank you. I was on my way to practice."

"Right. That piece—hope you don't mind, but I lingered when you disappeared and I heard your playing." His smile, impossibly, grows, and there's something comforting about it. "I'm not familiar with the composer, but it was…not in a bad way, but genuinely melancholy. It was wonderful."

Akaashi's ears twitch again, and the collar of his school uniform is warm against the back of his neck. He's never received a compliment on his own works before—mostly thanks to him not sharing them with others—and he never would've expected this kind of reaction to them from someone. He tips his head. "…thank you."

The other male hops up from the bench, stumbles forward into the piano because he didn't push the bench back enough to give him the proper room, and stands up, laughing at himself. "I'm Sugawara Koushi, from 3-P."

Huh. So he _is_ older. "Akaashi Keiji, 2-P," Akaashi replies.

"Ah, a kouhai!" Sugawara's chest swells with pride, and he nods conclusively. "Then, as your senpai, Akaashi-kun, I say you should stay here and practice with me."

Oh no. Sugawara isn't pushy like Bokuto, is he? His thoughts must show on his face, because Sugawara chuckles again.

"Sorry, sorry, that was rude of me. I'm just happy to have some company for once. The others in my class…"

Akaashi kind of gets it. The P classes can be handfuls. His is strange enough, with the likes of both Kozume and Shirabu in his section. And he's heard rumors about 3-P's Oikawa.

"Sorry about that," Sugawara adds, sitting back down. "I can vacate this room, if you prefer this piano."

"No." Akaashi has a sense of sympathy—or maybe empathy—for his fellow pianist, and he gets the feeling that maybe he and Sugawara share a similar mindset. "I mean, yes, I prefer this piano, but no, don't leave on my account."

Sugawara furrows his thick eyebrows. It's obvious the only option is for them to share the room, and a smaller smile blooms on his face as he realizes Akaashi's changed his mind. "Well then," he says, making room on the bench for Akaashi to join him, "it's nice to meet you."

* * *

"You've got that bounce in your step, Akaashi," Tanaka and Nishinoya chorus at the start of orchestra practice. They haven't finished setting up—Tanaka on timpani and Nishinoya on piccolo—but they're posing ridiculously, aiming their fingers at him. Akaashi internally groans.

"Get back into place, you two," Ennoshita scolds, and the duo pull faces at him before listening. Ennoshita gives Akaashi a look. "…as much as I hate to agree with them, you do seem different today, Akaashi." He taps his violin bow against his shoulder. "Did maestro agree to consider your original piece?" he queries in undertones. He's the only one with whom Akaashi has been honest about his compositions, because Ennoshita's creative and rebellious in the same ways.

"No. I've just had the time to rework some things," the pianist says, which is somewhat true. He's worked on his compositions, passing them off as notes in front of Sugawara, who still hasn't looked long enough at his sheet music to realize the papers read "Composer: Keiji Akaashi." It's kind of amusing, in a way, because Sugawara is very earnest and hardworking, but he's also very oblivious. Akaashi has quickly learned these things in the span of about a week and a half, and even thinking about it now makes him smile a little bit. He owes a debt of gratitude to Bokuto, he figures, because being around the energetic senior has helped him become extremely perceptive.

But Akaashi's not the only perceptive one. "Whatever it really is, good for you," Ennoshita says with a semi-knowing smile, and he walks back to his place, checking up on Tanaka and Nishinoya on the way back. Then the maestro appears, practice ensues, and Akaashi understands Bokuto's impatience in wanting to rush through a piece. A part of him today wants to hurry through practice and spend extra time on the piano floor.

Eventually, practice comes to a close, and Akaashi gathers his things. He waves to Bokuto before Bokuto can grab him and Kuroo distracts the trumpeter anyway, and Akaashi hastens to the second floor. He's almost running, he notes, when he slows almost to a stop.

The second floor is quiet today.

It's not that unusual. Sugawara pauses often, he knows, because he's always marking up his music or replaying a section with different sharps. But Akaashi approaches the room, and a full two minutes of silence pass.

Sugawara isn't here.

Akaashi's shoulders slouch. He rests his hand on the doorjamb and eyes the piano. Somehow it feels wrong to go sit down before Sugawara, because he really does expect to hear his senior crow about being Akaashi's senior and that he knows some tips and tricks to impart to the younger boy. Sugawara's fun, a contained kind of excitement that's opposite Bokuto, Tanaka, and Nishinoya. And, as a pianist, he's a welcome breath of fresh air when compared to the likes of Kozume and Shirabu and even Yahaba, who plays rather flamboyantly.

Finally he enters the room and sits down. It's weird. Not really the sitting down part—he just did that for two hours in orchestra—but the sitting _here_ part. It's strange not sitting down beside someone as lively yet contained as Sugawara on the bench, not bumping elbows with Sugawara.

Footsteps fade in and Sugawara appears at the doorway. He, too, is struck by the oddity of their positions being reversed for once. "You got here before me," he quips, making no move to enter.

"Sorry," Akaashi says automatically, and he makes room on the bench.

Sugawara starts, as if he's going to join him, but then he thinks better and remains by the door. "…mm, not today, Akaashi-kun."

"Oh. Sorry," he repeats, even though he doesn't know for what it is that he's apologizing.

Sugawara stares at him…at least, for as long as he can manage, because Akaashi stares right back (it's an instinct, after all the staring contests with Bokuto and Kuroo). He runs a hand through his clay-colored locks. "Didn't anyone ever tell you it's rude to stare, Akaashi?" Sugawara asks rhetorically.

Akaashi cocks his head to one side. For someone as talkative as Sugawara, he seems unusually bashful today. "…did something happen, Sugawara-san?"

Something must have happened. Sugawara tenses at Akaashi's question, and his normally soft features harden for a moment. Finally he walks into the room and places his bag on a chair and his music inside the piano. He heaves a large sigh. "Yeah, yeah, something did." He furrows his brow and half smiles. "I'm…training my replacement."

Not what Akaashi is expecting to hear.

Sugawara tries to laugh it off. "It's not a surprise, really. I'll be graduating soon. I wasn't going to be the go-to understudy forever. I'm just happy I got to play in some concerts…" He shakes his head. "But there's this new kid, a first year, and…well, they're treating him as an understudy for now, and he's got real talent but needs some help with the basics, but he'll be better than I ever was, I can tell, and…" Sugawara takes a breath, and it's shaky, and the whole sight of him being unsure kind of reminds Akaashi why it's safer to be himself on his own, to practice his music on his own, to fix his compositions on his own.

If he's on his own, then he doesn't have to worry about anyone seeing him, and he has to wonder if that thought ever occurred to Sugawara himself.

Maybe, maybe not, as Sugawara inhales and steadies himself. "Sorry to unload on you." He picks up his music. "Maybe another time, though."

Akaashi nods, because he's not a particularly pushy person himself, and he's never had a friend whom he wanted to stop from leaving. Normally he's the first to leave.

So when Sugawara leaves more suddenly than when he first appeared on Akaashi's radar, Akaaahi's expectations drop and his excitement quiets, and he's back to the beginning, practicing in his favored room, on his favorite piano, composing.

But composing doesn't hold his attention as it usually does.

* * *

Only a few days pass before Sugawara starts showing up in their room again. He's more subdued these days, but he's still fairly bubbly. He's less inclined to talk, as his mind often wanders to the subject of the kid he's tutoring—Kageyama Tobio—but he's still pleasant to be around.

Akaashi, who's fairly quiet himself (much to Bokuto's chagrin), can appreciate Sugawara's quiet moments. It gives him the chance to observe Sugawara and to appreciate Sugawara's music.

There's something very beautiful about the steady, soft way he plays. It's a bit like being wrapped in one's favorite blanket, Akaashi supposes, as it has both familiarity and reliability. Sometimes the lively bits pounce on his eardrums and paint a fluffy, pastel image in his mind—something reminiscent of Sugawara's fluffy, pastel hair, the taciturn pianist chuckles to himself. Other times it's obvious when Sugawara's mind wanders to his thoughts of being replaced for a "newer model," as the cheery teen has bitterly remarked twice since the arrival of Kageyama, because the softness of his playing grows slow and heavy and foreboding, belying the same somber mood one expects from a gray rainy day spent in a cemetery.

It's those times that make Akaashi wish he were impulsive like Bokuto, or even playful like Kuroo, because when Sugawara's mood sours like this, he rather wants to wrap his arms around the older boy and drop a curtain around their minds, blocking out all the negative thoughts of replacement and imitation.

And then sometimes he just wants to wrap his arms around the older boy just because.

A handful of times, Sugawara has this cryptic expression in his tawny eyes. Does he sense Akaashi's impulses? Does he pass them off as the illusion of a tired and unhappy mind?

Does he wish it would happen anyway?

Then again, Akaashi gets to thinking about just what "it" is, and his train of thought is always derailed whenever that happens, and he loses focus. Of course _that_ has to be what Sugawara sees, and half the time he'll stop playing and he'll break into a smile, because seeing Akaashi even remotely confused amuses him for some blasted reason, and Sugawara likes to flick Akaashi's curly fringe to get his attention back.

As if Sugawara really needs to get it back. Akaashi's thoughts are all Sugawara-related these days, anyway.

* * *

"The first of two yearly concerts is right around the corner," the maestro announces at the next orchestra practice. "Your pieces have been prepared, so it's practice overload time."

There's a collective groan in the hall, because their maestro is ridiculously Spartan for a maestro, so when he says "practice overload," they know the term's going to be taken to the max.

"Why the heck are we in this program unless we hate ourselves?" Kuroo gripes during a quick break. He's texting while griping, looking more irritated than normal.

"Because orchestra's _fun_ , Kuroo!" Bokuto needlessly supplies. "So what that we won't have time for much else? The concerts always make people so happy. I think it's great we have them! Besides, we've only got two left."

Akaashi's ears prick up at that, because, at their music school, it's so easy to forget that it's a _school_ , and everyone leaves at some point. Even Akaashi's time will come, next year, and the likes of that Kageyama will be the kind of talent that leads the school. But he could care less about that.

His thoughts flicker to a certain someone else.

Akaashi snaps back to the present when he realizes his circle of friends has gone quiet. Someone must've directed something at him, but he doesn't know how to respond. "Yes?"

Konoha, Kuroo, and Bokuto exchange a look (how annoying). "I asked if you were ready to get back to practice. Break's over, Akaashi." He gestures to where the maestro is tapping his foot at his place, likely to some tune no one else is hearing.

"Oh. Of course."

The trumpeters return to their spots, but Konoha lingers, twirling his flute in his hands. "You sure? Recently…you've been a bit absent-minded. Bokuto says you don't hang out with him after school anymore."

A muscle tenses in his jaw. "I am not Bokuto-san's babysitter, Konoha-san."

Konoha whistles as he walks away. "Sure, sure…"

Is it really that strange for Akaashi to march to the sound of his own drum? He spends a brief second contemplating this, but then he's at the piano bench, the maestro is raising his baton, and Akaashi's head fills with music.

…no, that's a lie. Music tries to take up most of the space, but it doesn't take up all of it, because a plan is formulating in his mind…

* * *

Practice is overwhelming, as is expected.

Having their selections chosen for them is a gift as well as a burden.

The maestro is relentless.

* * *

A week into practice—three weeks from the first concert—the maestro's announcement comes expectedly.

Understudies are to be selected (not unusual in their school, which technically has plenty of back-up players).

Akaashi's plan is cemented and simple and _hopefully won't backfire on him_.

* * *

The day after the announcement, in their room on the piano level, Akaashi is quieter than usual while Sugawara plunks away on the ivories. Timing is everything—

"Sugawara-san."

Sugawara smiles at hearing his name while he plays. "Yes?"

"I would like for you to be my understudy."

His senpai's fingers slip, and three keys are wrongly played, producing a short screech from the instrument. Sugawara stops altogether and gawks at Akaashi and, maybe it's just the light of the setting sun leaking in from the windows, Sugawara's face is salmon pink. "S-Say _what_?!"

"Be my understudy," Akaashi repeats, though, in light of Sugawara's reaction, he can no longer stare at his senpai with his usual confidence. He, too, feels self-conscious.

"I heard that!" Sugawara squeaks. He takes a breath. "Akaashi…this isn't a gesture of pity, is it? Because I don't need it. I'm over the Kageyama issue. He's a good kid—it's not his fault I'm simply older. These things just happen, and training him up is what's best for the school. I've got to think about what's best for everyone, not just myself."

"Even if you're selling yourself short?"

Apparently, Sugawara is someone who doesn't like confrontation, and he turns back to the piano and resumes playing. "Please don't start."

Akaashi isn't one to fight—unless it's a quick argument to set Bokuto straight or pull him out of his Dejected Mode—so he doesn't fight. "I just…I love the way you play. I'd like you by my side." He adds, after an odd beat, "Our styles work well together."

A couple of extra flats later, Sugawara glances at him. "Akaashi…you're too much sometimes."

Akaashi looks at him.

"But thank you." His grin is small and short, but there's something friendly and more about it. "I appreciate the early graduation present."

* * *

So practice continues.

The others are a little stunned to see Sugawara, who doesn't take the orchestra course, show up for practice the next day.

Two days after, only Bokuto and Kuroo are left scratching their heads.

Four days with Sugawara at practice, everyone comes to accept what Akaashi told his senpai: Their styles really do work well together.

Five, six…eight…twelve… The remaining weeks pass. Akaashi sees more of his senpai because they go to orchestra together, but they continue to hide out in their practice room afterwards, too, and Akaashi is no longer teased by his friends for it, now that they figured it out. In a way, that makes the air of their rendezvouses lighter, because there's no overbearing weight of secrecy (though what there was ever to hide, Akaashi has no clue).

Akaashi and Sugawara play and practice. Akaashi composes, Sugawara notes, Akaashi begins to notice the little details that make up Sugawara Koushi, and Sugawara finally reads "Composer: Keiji Akaashi" on a piece of sheet music left behind accidentally on purpose the day before the concert.

Sugawara doesn't speak up, but he also doesn't return the paper immediately….

* * *

"I'm gonna hurl…," Hinata moans before the concert.

"Not on your violin, _not on your violin—AND NOT ON ME!_ " Tanaka howls as the first year turns horrifically chartreuse. He ends up running the kid to the bathroom, and Nishinoya cleans up the small mess.

"We're doomed," Ennoshita comments to Akaashi, who solemnly nods.

"Aw, cheer up, Ennoshita," Sugawara says as he joins them, looking just like the rest of them in his formal attire. Still, Akaashi thinks, he looks very striking in something that's not their school uniform. "Once Hinata gets into the swing of things, his stage fright disappears. I know it's not practice but for real tonight, but I think he'll be fine."

"If you say so…"

Sugawara winks reassuringly at Akaashi, who merely nods his head. Shortly after, everyone's assembled and heads out onto the stage. Once situated, all the lights dim save for those needed by the musicians. Then, the maestro raises his conductor's wand.

The concert begins with a loud, wild Beethoven arrangement. It's long and takes effort, but the audience seems to enjoy it. Moving from that into a Mozart one isn't too bad, but not everyone has Tanaka's, Nishinoya's, Hinata's, or Bokuto's stamina.

After the second Mozart selection, there is a short break before the final piece in which the orchestra as a whole will play. Akaashi gladly takes the water Sugawara offers him on the side of the stage. "It's so exciting, watching the orchestra! I'm used to the smaller chamber playing or the individual pieces…"

"It takes a lot out of us, though," Akaashi states.

Sugawara's smile doesn't reach his eyes. "You've got this, Akaashi."

Akaashi has the impulse again, the one to wrap his arms around his senpai, despite the smile (because it seems like a frown in disguise). But he just nods, and the applause comes with the lifted curtain, and everyone's back onstage for Liszt.

The maestro taps his baton on his podium and gestures to Akaashi at the piano.

Akaashi's hands aren't even above the keys.

The maestro calmly taps his baton again, and he catches Akaashi's eye. He's ready to turn his temper on in three, two, one—

Sugawara delicately slides onto the bench beside Akaashi and begins playing. The maestro is placated, and the strings add to the sound. Shortly after, the other instruments take their turns and play at the correct parts and everything goes smoothly.

Sugawara's playing is at its most genuine, and Akaashi feels slightly jealous that he has to share this with the others and the audience. But he plays the lower register and Sugawara takes the high notes and they work together on the same piano, for once not bumping any elbows whatsoever. His senior's playing is soft—and yet it's so genuinely Liszt, Akaashi nearly tears up—but it's vibrant and lively and just _so Sugawara_. It's different from Akaashi's playing earlier in the concert, but it's pleasing nevertheless, so it's a shame when it comes to an end.

They all get a standing ovation, but, within the orchestra, the two pianists are the ones who get the standing ovation. The maestro seems all right with how Sugawara saved the evening, and the pianists ride the high from their accolades as the few individual showcases round out the concert.

There are talks of an after party once all's said and done. The idea seems dubious since it originates with Hanamaki and Matsukawa from the woodwind section, but Sugawara urges Akaashi to go with the flow. "We've earned it!" he tells his kouhai.

The party is raucous and potentially illegal, Akaashi muses, since someone picked the lock on the cafeteria doors, but it's fun. Whatever's on hand is plated, passed around, microwaved—the music aside, they're all _teenagers_ , and it's pretty easy to feed the lot of them.

Sugawara sighs happily off to the side, Akaashi right there with him. "I can't believe I got to play…" He gives Akaashi a skeptical look. "You didn't delay on purpose, did you, so I could have the chance?"

"No."

"Say that without smiling."

Akaashi isn't even aware of what he's doing. "Oh." He stops.

Sugawara rolls his eyes. "So, are you wiped out?" he teases.

"Somewhat. I'm glad they don't hold more than two concerts each year," the younger male confides.

"Yeah… Hey, want to play some more?" There's excitement lighting up those tawny eyes, and Akaashi doesn't feel he can turn him down.

Upstairs, they get to their room. Akaashi goes to flip the light switch, but Sugawara shakes his head.

"We've got the moonlight," he says plainly, which is true, because the Moon is nearly full and there are no trees on this side of the building.

"What would you like to play?" Akaashi asks as they sit down.

"You rest. You're exhausted." Sugawara shrugs. "I said what I said mostly just to get us away from there."

Akaashi smiles and raises one eyebrow. "You could've just said so, Sugawara-san."

"Hush. Let me play for you."

Akaashi quietly laughs, but he does as asked. He sits still and closes his eyes, and the music washes over him. It's a gentle, warm sound, but it's also a bit sad…and familiar…

Sugawara senses Akaashi's eyes on him. "I practiced your piece at home," he admits. "Well, just the one page. I improvised what else I could remember." He meets those dark eyes. "You really are talented, Akaashi. I'm glad I got to play with you." And yet, his tone…

"You haven't given up."

"Nope." It's true—there's a fire in Sugawara's eyes that hasn't been there since the Kageyama incident—and he looks so preciously _alive_ when he grins broadly. "I haven't. I…know I'm not like Kageyama. I'm not like a lot of the first years coming in. But I can compete with that, because I'm still here and still playing and still _fighting_."

"What's best for you," Akaashi points out.

"Well, when it's best for the school, too," Sugawara adds on. "So you should write some more, you know. I want to play with you again, but I also want to play your music."

Akaashi taps Sugawara's shoulder, Sugawara pauses playing, and Akaashi kisses him. "I agree," he says, happy at last to have followed through on at least one impulse.

Even in the moonlight, Sugawara's skin flushes with color. He gives Akaashi a tiny glare and resumes playing. But this time, he makes a lot more mistakes than usual.

"Ah, that's supposed to be a B flat, Sugawara-san."

"Then please give me my left hand back so I can play, Akaashi."

"…no." And Akaashi smiles with his hand atop Sugawara's on the bench, because too many happy reasons are filling him up: that someone else appreciates his music, that Sugawara wants to play with him again, that Sugawara hasn't left the room after what Akaashi just did—

—and that, of course, there are _two_ concerts the school puts on every year, and he plans on asking Sugawara to be his understudy again.

(And maybe then he'll ask Sugawara to be something else for him, but maybe he doesn't have to ask then, judging by how Sugawara flips his hand over and interlaces their fingers….)

**Author's Note:**

> AGH word vomit. This idea came out of nowhere (also, the pairing—wut? O.o and yet sOME ONE PLEASE COME TALK TO ME ABOUT THEM D8), but I liked it. I actually have a different musical AU set up for the volleyball guys (not this pairing), but this was fun to write. But, man, talk about a rare pair, huh… :O WHY DID I CHURN OUT 4,500 WORDS FOR THEM? Also, note: That's not Kageyama hate (I love him), just a nod to canon events of Suga feeling as though he was being replaced early on in the series.
> 
> *ahem* But thanks for reading, and please review! :D Check out my other fics, too, if you enjoyed this!
> 
> -mew-tsubaki -w-


End file.
